


Many Days Like This

by cadaveres



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Happy Ending, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary sandwich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:49:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6531811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadaveres/pseuds/cadaveres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's comfort in these days where time seems still while life continues happening for others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Many Days Like This

**Author's Note:**

> Modern AU setting.

Devan met them one rainy Saturday morning as they helped the new cashier ring up items. The elf had a smiled their way, perhaps only out of politeness, but their flustered cheeks and their lips curling up into a bashful smile had managed to make an impression. Then the smile became less tentative, less nervous, genuine as the elf kept frequenting the store for the smallest thing. Tomatoes, bubblegum, aluminum paper, all items they could have gotten from anywhere closer to their home; yet there they were, at least once a week and every time a kind smile at the sight of the Rivaini.

Devan noticed and they couldn’t have been happier when they realized it was for them and not for their quality and prices that the elf kept coming back. Soon the visits moved to their home in the attic of the store, where pillow forts, popcorn, laughter, and fleeting touches took place as the two grew fonder of the presence of the other.

Sarita met the Rivaini one sunny afternoon while playing with flowers, crowning herself queen of the park as she watched Kierran’s patient hands weaving flower stems together into a second crown. The boy heard the excited barking from afar and darted off into the distance, landing on his knees at the sight of the 4 puppies and a cat. She wore purple fairy wings that day and her hair was a mess with the flowers on her head falling apart as she tried to catch up after the boy. She was met with a smile and two steely eyes, a starring contest that had to be interrupted at the sudden extra weight that pressed against her chest and made her stumble a couple of paces back. She left that day with a number and a grin that made her heart flutter for hours after.

Feray met her as she slept on their couch one Sunday morning. She was trembling from the cold, her body only covered with her tights and a sweater too big for her lithe frame. They met her eyes and the forest inside when she awoke to them placing a blanket over her sleeping form, resulting in a tinge of red coloring their cheeks and a silent retreat to the kitchen. She claimed to be an intruder, but she was welcomed quickly as a friend. Where Nuray welcomed her fully, Feray kept themselves on the margins of the conversation, shy, unsure, but very much intrigued by her kind smile and the twinkle in her eyes.

The three saw each other together for the first time that same Sunday morning while Sarita lounged in the couch with Feray’s brother and Feray struggled not to let themselves fluster when the Rivaini embraced them. They stayed like that on the couch, talking and exchanging stories of how each other met. Sarita noticed how different Feray was with Devan around and she smiled, hoping to be that for them, or at least for only for a while.

They only left once they noticed Nuray rubbing his temples, still battling the hangover from yesterday’s party. They exited the complex, brushing arms and continuing their conversation as Feray led them to the exit. They walked down the street, side by side with Sarita in the middle, her height a stark contrast between the heights of the two on her sides. Devan told them about this place downtown with good food and nice music, a plan that got scratched for later once Sarita spots a frozen yogurt shop and exclaims she had never tried one before. Feray treated them with a cup for each, strawberry, raspberry, and peach.

It was night when Devan took their leave, placing a tender kiss on Feray’s forehead and signaling for Sarita to go with them so they could walk her to the bus. “I-uh-I might not have a place to stay.” Feray offered their bed, resulting in endless teasing from their sister who had overheard the conversation as they hid in her room, Sarita just some steps away. Devan took the couch, because they were not going to be left out from fun if they could have a say on it. Feray was tempted to go cuddle against them, wrap their arms around their waist and feel their skin pressing against their own. The thought was fleeting and vanished as soon as it came, followed by a second thought of the green of Sarita’s eyes and the softens of her smile.

That night they dreamt of laughter and smiles, of lips and fingers woven through silver and black hair. One month later, the trio were to spend the night like Feray dreamed about.

In the afternoon, they walked through shops, window shopping and occasionally entering a store with interesting things to try on. In other occasions, with other people, Feray knew they wouldn’t have been able to talk like they did and they were grateful for that, slowly easing up to Sarita’s warmth and Devan’s hands reaching for their own.

They talked about their siblings and their work, Sarita asking questions about the research, her eyes wide with interest. They told her of the nights alone in the library when they would stay in their small carrel, studying and sleeping as to not waste any time. They told them ghost stories about hearing the echoes of laughter followed by a distant shushing sound, about the books that would disappear and reappear in different sections every time, or the shuffling of papers and books being shelved in the middle of the night.

Devan told them about the shop and their place in the attic, the joys of having no neighbors and being able to sing and play their music at any hours of the day. Then there were the stories about a fight club they were not supposed to talk about but did anyway; with that amount of scars and bruises it was hard not to talk about the nights spent fighting with the rage they never told anyone about against the rage and pain of others, spitting blood on makeshift rings on empty parking lots or abandoned warehouses, losing and loosening teeth on the dirty pavement.

Sarita laughed through the stories, giggled at Devan’s flirtations and Feray’s flustered cheeks. She told them about her many different jobs and her wandering feet, losing herself in the middle of gardens and shops only to find kind people who offered her their time, a fragment stolen from them when she whisked it and took flight not so many days after. A florist, bartender, nanny, waitress, every single one of them with an interesting story and the people, everything woven with a sense of longing and nostalgia for when the things stayed still, and then the hunger for something else, bigger, new.

Somehow they found their way to Devan’s attic home and they lied on the bed, all three of them, their legs entwined as the glare of the television casted shadows against the walls. The dream Feray dreamed about weeks before conjured by the sight of her lips curled up as she pressed them against the palm of Feray’s hand and the sight of Devan’s fingers intertwined with her own. They slept, undisturbed by the sun as it began seeping through the window, engulfed in the warmth of each other, awoken only by Devan’s humming as they stretched and wrapped their arms around the waists of the other two.

Days like these were easy to get used to, Feray mused later as they watched Sarita exit the bathroom, a towel around herself and her hair sticking against her pearly skin, a stark contrast all the more beautiful with her red lips curled up in a smile. Devan continued humming in the background, a happy melody that Feray had heard them hum only the nights and next days that they would spend together, sleepless, hidden beneath blankets and pillows. Feray smiled, looking at the two and then walking towards the bathroom, gently brushing their hand over Sarita’s shoulder and disappearing behind the door.

Days like these were too hard to forget, Feray continued musing as they stepped into the shower; they hoped to never be in the position to do so.


End file.
